Precious Time

It isn’t fair to me,
how in torpidity
creatures arise

back to earth they emerge
as a sunburst, each year
in a cycle and I, left
behind in the cold
until Springs debut

Gesticulating and yawning,
they stretch and awaken,
to remember where the
meal is tucked away
to feed an empty stomach

I think on the metaphysics; it
bewilders me enough to question
the perplexity of this mysterious
form of living to die to live

Natures way of unusual falling
into a state of coma is intrinsic
and the timing of death and return,
to freeze life is scintillating in
my point of view as a human

I miss the day during the night,
looking forward to its return
I must sleep or stay awake

Silence of the night, the moon’s
touch of quiet time and the
flashlights beaming in space
watch over my fears,

I look forward to being
with them when I stop
to think in days light
that soon my world will
become darkened

Albeit I would like to be
a hibernating beast, I’d
rather stay a human not
missing out on things,
that I may never see,
touch, hear, smell
or feel again, while
I have slept away as
Rip Van Winkle did.

By. Vanessa Ramos